


Night, Night!

by kyarorin



Series: Domesticating Ironhide [4]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, No sad feels here, Not compliant with DoTM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 21:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2041098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyarorin/pseuds/kyarorin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daddy tells her that the big metal man was just an imaginary friend, but Annabelle knows better. He's the one who brings Daddy home, every time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night, Night!

**Author's Note:**

> I think my genre is 'big robots, little girls'. 
> 
> Also my Ironhide muse just wants the Lennoxes to have a million babies; this would be easier if Will could get pregnant too. (God damnit, Will.)

Little Annabelle is only three years old, but even she knows sometimes grownups don’t answer her fully when she asks a question. Sometimes she asks why there’s a big TV on the back porch, or if there really was a big, black giant that came to the farm when she was really, really little. Sometimes she draws him, but she doesn’t remember much. Just blue eyes and a sheer hugeness that makes even her Daddy look small. 

Mommy always gives Daddy a stern look whenever she asks about the giant, but they just tell her he’s her invisible friend. Except her other friends are always around, so why’d he go away?

So she sits, and she watches, looking up from her coloring as Mommy stands in front of the TV, arms crossed. She doesn’t understand a lot of what the pretty lady on the screen is saying, but there’s the occasional loud siren and _ratatata_ in the background, and it keeps her attention for only a few moments. 

Mommy’s worried, so Annabelle doesn’t ask her when Daddy will be home- that’ll only make her smile in a way that just seems wrong, and Annabelle doesn’t want to make Mommy smile like that often.

Sometimes Mommy smiles like that when she asks why Daddy will sit in the big truck and not go anywhere, and then get out looking tense. He usually calls her Princess and gives her a kiss on the nose before leaving with the big truck for a long time. Just like now.

“Come on, baby,” Mommy says, picking her up. “Do you want some mac’n’cheese?”

“Yeah!”

 

* * *

 

Daddy comes home two days later, looking tired and weary, and he groans when he kneels down to hug her, ruffling her hair and making her giggle. “How’s my little Princess?”

“Good!”

Her Daddy holds her and sits her in his lap when they eat, and Mommy’s smiles are much prettier now. Mommy keeps looking into the garage with relief.

 

* * *

 

She waits until she can’t see light from under her door before sneaking out of her bed. Uncle Bobby once showed her how to step very quietly, but Annabelle doesn’t think she’s any good at it.

When the door creaks, she freezes, rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand and waiting for what feels like forever before ambling slowly, carefully down the stairs one by one.

It’s dark and almost scary in the house, but she clings to the wall, clutching her blankie close, only stopping when she gets to the door to the garage.

Annabelle reaches up and strains for the doorknob, tip of her tongue sticking out as she tries, and tries, and tries to get it open. Falling back onto her heels, she whimpers and brushes the blanket against her cheek. She can’t make any noise, or Mommy and Daddy will hear.

Sniffling, Annabelle looks up forlornly at the door, her face scrunching up in thought. Uncle Bobby had watched her once, and laughingly told her that he couldn’t give her any cookies, but if she pulled a chair over and got some herself when he couldn’t see...

She fumbles the first two times, but the door swings open and she freezes. It’s dark, even darker than inside the house with it’s open blinds and moonlight falling in. But she can see the rim of the truck’s wheels, and after bringing her blanket to her cheek again, she clambers down and into the garage.

“Mr. Tuck!” Annabelle says quietly, patting the side, the sound hollow and loud in the quiet garage. “Mr. Tuck!”

Nothing.

The little girl frowns, hugging the wheel anyways. “Thank you. For bringin’ Daddy home.”

After a few moments of silence, the light’s flash twice and Annabelle gasps, giggling and patting its side again, before running back to the door.

“Night, night!” She whispers, struggling to get the door closed again and sneaking back up into her room.

  
Maybe the grownups don’t tell her everything, but that’s ok, she’s a smart girl. Mommy said so. And her big black friend never went away, he's just been playing a _very long_ game of pretend.


End file.
